"Whoa whoa whoa, stop." Booth grabbed her outstretched wrist as she invaded his personal space. "I put on this costume and agreed to be the Boris to your Natasha, but I am NOT wearing makeup." Missing scene for Double Trouble in the Panhandle.

I am often obsessed with non-couples who want to be couples doing a variety of domesticated things in the presence of the other, so this idea popped into my head while watching Double Trouble in the Panhandle (trailer sharing!) and noticing that Booth was wearing eyeliner on the corners of his eyes.

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Brennan leaned carefully over the counter of the cramped trailer sink, raising the black eyeliner pencil in her right hand to her half closed eyelid. She moved the pencil along the lid in a smooth, practiced line, stopping periodically to survey her handiwork in the mirror in front of her. Being in the circus was supposed to be a performance, a step out of her normal boring routine, and she was determined to have a little fun with each and every part of her costume – including the makeup. Sweeping the pencil down underneath her eye created a dramatic effect, not unlike that of a cat's eye. Smiling to her reflection in approval, she made quick work of duplicating the effect on her opposite eye.

Capping her pencil and giving herself a final once-over, Brennan caught Booth following her movements in the mirror. He had been changing in the bed area while she finished up her makeup in the "bathroom", but she hadn't noticed him sneak up behind her. "Looking for makeup tips Agent Booth?" she tossed back, staring at him through the reflective glass.

"Oh yes, because dressing in this ridiculous costume is not nearly humiliating enough, Bones."

She let her eyes travel down his body, quickly sizing up his Boris getup. "Don't be such a baby, we're under cover! Besides, you don't look ridiculous."

Booth huffed, obviously unconvinced. "Well exactly how do I look then? Since you are suddenly an expert on all things undercover."

He could see her brain scanning through the impressive vocabulary he knew she possessed before she finally settled on a word she felt fitting for the situation. Tilting her head slightly, she let the word fall from her lips as her eyes once again took in his reflected appearance. "You look…authentic." He raised a skeptical eyebrow, not sure if she meant an authentic Russian, or just an authentic knife throwing carnival performer pretending to be Russian for a gimmick. "Well, except for one thing anyway." Bones broke their reflected stare and rooted around in her makeup bag before swiftly turning around to face him.

"Bones, what –"

"You need a little pizzazz around the eyes!" Brennan advanced on him with her eyeliner pen held up in the air like some kind of crazed artist.

"Whoa whoa whoa, stop." Booth grabbed her outstretched wrist as she invaded his personal space. "I put on this costume and agreed to be the Boris to your Natasha, but I am NOT wearing makeup." His eyes were wide as she seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Booth," she started in her most placating tone of voice. "Most performers wear some kind of makeup to help enhance the overall look of their performance! Men in theater do it all the time, and of course the clowns all do it. Come on Booth, I'm not going to make you look like a girl, I swear. Just a little bit more Russian."

Booth looked panicked for a moment, but she didn't seem to be backing down. She wiggled the pencil in her still captured hand, excitement oozing from her entire body. "Oh all right, but just a little. Just enough to add a little "pizzazz". Where did you even learn that word anyway…?" She ignored him, and the look of victory that crossed her face was enough to make him smile – just a little.

Brennan looked around the room for a moment, and then pulled out the single standing chair. "Here, sit." Booth complied, waiting quietly as she examined his face, eyes squinting slightly. Ever the squint, he thought to himself. Nibbling her bottom lip in concentration, Brennan uncapped her pencil and ran her index finger softly along the corner of his eyelid. The feather light touch caused his eyes to snap up to her face and his breath to freeze in his chest. She nodded to herself, oblivious as always, and touched the same place on his other eye. "Look down for me," she requested, as she cupped his jaw in her left hand, and brought the pencil up with her right. Booth did as requested, but had somehow missed how incredibly close Bones was now standing, and what a tantalizing view he now had of her cleavage. Looking away by habit, Booth received an annoyed cluck from in front of his face. "You have to look down and stay still or else you'll end up looking like one of the clowns." He certainly didn't want that, so he dutifully turned his gaze down once again. She had ordered him to do it after all.

Gulping lightly, Booth tried to focus his eyes on a tiny tan freckle he found in the middle of her exposed chest. Don't look down, eyes up soldier, he kept telling himself. If she was trying to torture him, she was doing a good job of it. The foreign feel of the eye pencil gliding along the side of his skin did little to distract him as she worked her magic on his face. She quickly finished his eyes, which he was glad for – both because he could now avert his eyes to safer areas, and because she couldn't have done much damage in that short of a time. "How does it look?" he asked, his voice an octave lower than it should have been.

She slid her hands down the sides of his cheeks, tilting his eyes into view as she maneuvered herself half onto his lap so that she was level with him. He saw her skim her handiwork and then freeze as their eyes locked. She was so close he could see the flecks of gold glittering in her blue eyes, and feel the brush of her silk cape on his exposed arms. He wasn't sure how long they were lost in the stare until he felt her breathe out: "Perfect."

His brain is ten steps behind, but she catches him up as usual. She clears her throat quickly; "The eyes look perfect, now you're all ready to go." Her eyes flit across his face one last time as she boosts herself up with a push from his broad shoulders. "I'll meet you outside."

Booth doesn't move from his chair until the closing of the trailer door makes his chair shimmy under his weight. He lets out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and walks himself over to the mirror she had been occupying only a few minutes earlier. Looking himself over much like she had done previously, he noted the subtle marks he was now sporting beside his eyes. She had been right, they gave his look a little bit of an edge. As he was about to turn and follow her path outside, he noticed a small bag of props lying on the counter next to her dark purple makeup bag. Rooting around inside for a moment, past the wigs and fake eyelashes, he found the perfect final piece for his costume. Setting it quickly in place, he gave himself a good luck salute, grabbed his oversized faux fur coat, and bounded down the steps to his Natasha.

Bones turned and gave him a puzzled look as he descended, staring at his newest addition. "What is that thing on your face? It looks like a small animal."

"Pizzazz Bones, pizzazz." He grabbed her arm as she tried to hide the grin blossoming across her face. "To the circus!"

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